Once Upon a Time
by xLittleRedRidingHoodx
Summary: This is my first story so bear with me. A magical Cinderella with a few twists, along with all our favourite characters. HP/GW, JP/LP, RW/HG
1. Chapter 1

Once upon a time in a kingdom far, far away there lived a young girl who loved her father very, very much. Her name was Ginerva.

Her father was Lord Arthur of St. Ottery. She had seven brothers, all living away from home in the service of His Majesty, King James. When Ginerva was six years old her mother had taken ill from a mysterious illness that lead her to her grave. Her father remarried a few years later to a foreign woman by the name of Persephone Patil. She had twin daughters from a previous marriage, Parvati and Padma. They were all pretty enough but they were also cruel. They hated Ginerva and eventually banned her from sitting at the dinner table with the family. They took away all her pretty frocks and gave her rags to wear. She was moved out of her spacious rooms with view over the garden and lily pond and into a cold tower-room. She was now, they told her, one of the servants. And poor Ginerva worked from sun-up to sundown. She prepared their meals, she washed the floors and made their beds. She never complained but did her work quietly and diligently. Her stepsisters teased her, calling her Cinderella, for she was always covered in soot and grime from the kitchen, her fair skin covered with dirt and her lovely red hair hidden under a cloth.

"You're nothing but a filthy commoner, a Muggle." They said and shoved her so she fell into the ashes in the fireplace.

Her father was never there to witness the cruel treating of his daughter for he was an adventurer, traveling the known world, looking for the treasures of their folk legends. He looked for the First Tear of the Phoenix, the Heart of the Gentle Dragon and the Silver Arrow, each a magical artifact with great power in it's own. If he were there the stepmother and stepsisters would act kind to her and then banish her to the kitchens as soon as he had left again.

Her brothers never came home for they were away, fighting in the war, except for her youngest brother, Ronald. He was at the Royal Palace in training to be a knight and was never allowed outside the castle walls.

It looked for a grim life for poor Ginerva but fate seemed to think differently.

King James and Queen Lily had one son, Prince Harry. He was seventeen years old and therefore of marrying age. He however showed no interest in that, more intent on developing his magical ability with his master, Sir Dumbledore.

Queen Lily invited princesses and daughters of the noblest houses in the kingdom to the palace but no-one seemed to spark the interest of her son.

"I swear," She complained to her husband one night, "There is not one girl in the entire kingdom Harry wants to marry."

"Well," Her husband, suffering from an intense headache from dealing with advisors and lawyers all day, said. "Just invite everyone and eventually, he will have to fall in love with one of them. If he doesn't, he shall marry Princess Emaline, for my sake."

"Oh, James." His wife cried. "What a wonderful idea. I'll throw a ball and invite every eligible girl in the kingdom. We'll throw it on Harry's birthday, so he won't suspect a thing."

And therefore it came about a royal messenger came to the mansion in St.Ottery with an invite to a ball to the ladies of the house.

"Oh, girls." Persephone cried excitedly. "We will call your father home immediately," for she referred to Lord Arthur as their father, "and he will buy you the prettiest frocks and the nicest jewels found in the kingdom."

"But mother, I don't want Padma to come to." Parvati objected. "I'm two minutes older and tradition says the older sister must be married before the younger looks for a husband."

"Mother. That is completely unfair, treating me like I'm Ginerva or something!" Padma shouted.

"Hush darling." Persephone chastised her. "A ladies voice should never be higher than the gentle rustle of the wind in the willow. And Parvati, dear, of course Padma will come too, this is not some oafish noble, this is Prince Harry. Now, I think your frocks are going to be purple, for blue is Prince Harry's favourite colour and red is the colour of the kingdom. We shall use diamonds, of course…oh, I must write to your father immediately."

"Can I go too, stepmother?" Ginerva asked from the corner of the parlour, where she was dusting of some hideous porcelain statues owned by Persephone. Her stepmother turned around, holding her swan-feather quill aloft.

"You?" She asked. "Why would you want to go to a dance? You don't know how to dance and you don't even have a frock to wear."

"The invitation says 'ladies of the house. I'm a lady."

"In what dimension?" Parvati asked sniedely.

"Now, Parvati, there's no need to get less than courteous. Ginerva dear," She addressed her, "if you have finished all your chores in time, I don't see why you can't come. Now, go and make me some tea."

"But mother!" Padma objected as Ginerva hurried from the room. She could go to the dance! Nevermind that almost everytime her chores kept her up until around midnight, when she finally nodded of while mending stockings and washing handkerchiefs in rose-water. The dance was now three weeks away. All she needed was a plan.

_What went on in the parlour:_

"Mother," Padma said. "You aren't seriously thinking of letting that pig join us at the ball? She'll embarrass us and Prince Harry will never marry me then."

"My dear girl, didn't you listen to a word I said? I said _if. _And if is miles away from a yes." Persephone replied, a smug smile playing on her dark lips.

Two weeks before the ball, Lord Arthur returned to his house. He came with trunks packed with the finest Chinese silk and taffeta. He also carried sacks of precious jewels that would be meticulously hand-sewed in by the manors seamstresses. His two stepdaughters would be dressed to the latest fashion and with the best materials gold could buy. Of course he thought there would be three dresses sewn and three pairs of dancing slippers bought and the hairdresser paid to do up three girls, no two. For he loved his only daughter dearly, remembering her as the cheerful child she used to be. His wife told him that while he was away she was insolent and rude but when he was around Ginerva barely spoke a word, looming in the corners of the rooms, head bowed and never quite as well dressed as the other three. It worried him but he daren't say a word to his wife. He had once and the fury unleashed on him had kept him away from home for four months. He had already decided he would leave after a week to visit his estates in the country and collect taxes. He didn't expected to be back before the ball but much rather the day after.

Both Lord Arthur and his late wife, Lady Molly, were magical. They had passed their heritage on to their sons but it was not traditional to formally educate daughters with magical abilities but most nobles looked past that rule, teaching their daughters all they knew. Ginerva was too young to have shown her abilities when Lord Arthur married Persephone. Neither Persephone nor her daughters were magical, so she had all magic banned from the house. The few servants with magical abilities were banned from using them and fired if discovered. Ginerva had a powerful branch of magic in her. She found if she didn't use it, glasses tended to break if she concentrated too hard and the air around her began to hum. So she practiced secretly, levitating small stones and moving objects around the room. She had never used them before with her chores but now desperate times called for desperate measures. Now she would no longer do the dishes by hand but make them do it themselves while she cleaned the house. Stockings mended themselves while she was busy baking. If she hadn't used her magic those weeks she never would've finished for her stepmother piled her with chores and duties. Her sisters seemed to have exceptionally large amounts of laundry, all which needed to be handwashed with the upmost gentleness. But she handled it all with unusual briskness.

There was, however, the matter of the frock. She only had dirty and tattered skirts and shirts she wore everyday, none fit for polite society, let alone the royal palace. She started looking around for dresses her sisters had discarded, for they were last month's fashion, and with the help of an old book of dresses she made the most beautiful frock. It was shimmering white, who on Padma had washed out her dark skin and brown eyes, but on Ginerva it brought out the green of her eyes and made her hair look glowing. Her mother had left her a emerald pendant, which she had kept hidden form her stepmother, for it was of the finest make and best of qualities. She threaded it upon a silver chain. It was the only piece of jewelry she planned on wearing, for her ears were not pierced and she didn't own anything else. She saved up the few gold coins she had managed to scavenge from coat-pockets and purses and snuck into the town one day to buy slippers. She had to buy the cheapest the cobbler had but they were white so it was all right.

Every night she went to bed completely exhausted but excited at the prospect of spending one night looking at all the well-dressed people and eating delicious food. She hardly thought about Prince Harry, knowing full well he should marry some princess, not little old her.

"Father." Harry said. "I'm barely seventeen, I don't think I should marry just jet. I want to travel, see the world. I want to fight in the war, not bow to poncy little socialites and listen to how they love taking walks underneath the cherry trees!"

"Don't even mention going off to the war!" James replied harshly. "You're my only child. If you die I'll have to live forever or hand the throne over to some distant relative, all stalking around waiting till I die. And if I'm not dying quickly enough they'll hurry up the process, I suspect. No," He said dejectedly. "Get married, produce an heir and then we'll talk about fighting in wars."

"Yes, father." Harry replied, knowing this discussion had come to an end, ending unfavorably for him once again.

"You seem distracted, Master Harry." Dumbledore said to his young pupil. "Tell me, what weighs so heavily upon your mind?"

"Father wants me to marry. He says I can't fight until I do." Harry said, staring gloomily at the feather he was to transform into a ring.

"Well of course he wants that. He was but eighteen himself when he married young Lily, And you followed in the year after. Your situations were not altogether unsimilar. He was eager to fight wars and slay dragons. His father was going grey worrying that he wouldn't climb over the castle walls and fight anyway. And then he met your mother and realized there were things worth going to war over and worth keeping the peace over."

"That's all well and good for him but I'm my own person. I've almost finished my training, I'm a better swordsman than most in the castle and my horse is quicker than anyone's."

"I daresay young master Ronald is hot on your heels when it comes to a swordfight. And you still haven't successfully transformed that feather. " Dumbledore replied with a glint in his eye. "Now, think about the transformation, feel the softness of the feather go hard and cold. Feel it coil around itself as it becomes a complete and unbreakable circle."

Harry stared intently at the feather and slowly it began to transform. Small pearls of sweat formed on his forehead and before him lay a gold ring.

"Very good Master Harry." Dumbledore said pleased. "Now remember every nobleman has his duties and preserving his lineage is one of them. And also, when you marry you can stop chasing the kitchen maids around." He said and gave Harry a playful slap on the shoulder as the young prince turned a very common shade of red.

On the day of the ball Parvati and Padma spent their days soaking on hot water and perfumes, ensuring that every inch of their bodies smelled divine. Ginerva combed fragrant oils into their long black hair before the hairdresser twisted it and pinned as fashion required. Then the applied rouge to their lips and lined their dark eyes with kohl, ensuring that their exotic features were visible in what was sure to be a dark ballroom. Ginerva was running around the whole day, sweaty and exhausted. She sneezed from the fumes of the bath making her hair appear from under the cloth she always covered it with and frizz to no end. She hadn't had time to wash her face or hands so everything she touched got stained. Eventually, an hour before they were set to leave they sent her out of the room, saying they wouldn't be in the same room as her any longer, fearing the stench of her would linger on them.

And it was true, she did stink. She was sweaty and covered in grime and dirt from crawling around on the floor, looking for escaped earrings and buttons. Having used both all the firewood and the water taking so long to heat she decided to bathe herself in the little stream that ran next to her dear mother's grave. She gasped as she stepped into the water, even though it was high summer the little stream was cold as ice. But she closed her eyes firmly and steeled herself before sinking her head under the surface. As she re-emerged she suddenly realized she was no longer cold.

"I'm going to a dance tonight." She told the willow that grew on her mother's grave as the stream danced along her hips. "You taught me to dance as a little girl, I hope I remember it still."

And then she stepped out of the stream, wrapping a cloth around her virgin body. She hurried to her room where her beautiful frock waited for her. She pulled it over her head, stepping into the slippers and hanging the pendant around her neck. She quickly brushed her hair, tried to twist it into a bun but grimaced and let it hang loose down her back. She could hear her stepmother talking to her stepsisters three floors down. They were leaving she could hear. She ran down the narrow stairs of the tower, holding the hem of her dress up so she wouldn't tear it. As she came to the door at the bottom of the tower, the one that lead to the foyer she pulled the handle. But the door wouldn't open. She pulled harder, thinking the door was stuck but it still didn't open. She was desperate now, for she could hear the driver outside greet her stepmother as he opened the door to the coach for her.

"Wait!" She cried and pulled at the handle desperately. "Wait for me!"

Then she heard the most beautiful sound she had ever heard. It was clear and reassuring and somehow she imagined a gentle face with golden hair. She didn't realize at first that the sound was singing. She couldn't see any source of the song but when the last, high notes died out the handle of the door finally gave after and the door swung open.

She looked into the dark, empty foyer. They had left without her. She could hear the rattle of wheels in the distance and see through the large windows a faint shape of a disappearing wagon.

Tears of disappointment threatened to flow over the brims but Ginerva stopped herself. She had never cried over them, she would not start now. But it was just so cruel! She wanted to go and had looked forward to it for weeks. And they hadn't even stopped to wonder why she wasn't there. Of course not, they had planned it all along! She was never to go to that ball. Now she was almost crying and had heavy hiccups. She ran out to the grave of her mother, to confide in the solid bark of the willow. Her lovely dress swished behind her as she ran, creating the illusion of a million stars trailing behind her. When she approached the grave she heard a gentle neighing. She stopped, seeing a white mare standing next to the grave. Her mane and tail seemed to be spun out of pure gold. She stepped closer to Ginerva and she could see the saddle and reins placed on the mare. She smiled widely.

"Come here, you pretty girl." She said gently. "Come and take your dear Ginny to the dance."

And the mare approached daintily, her small hooves barely touching the ground. Ginerva led her to a small stone where she swung herself on the mare's back.

"Are you my Goldstream?" She asked as she urged the horse forward. "Can you show me how a real lady runs?"

And the mare turned into a leap and didn't let down until they were at the castle gates. There Ginerva stepped off her and handed her to a hostler.

Many elegant people were mingling around the palace gardens, the trees illuminated by lanterns hung from their branches. The whole place seemed enveloped in a soft glow. The soft laughter of ladies and the lower rumble of men's voices didn't quite manage to overpower the sound of the orchestra playing inside.

Up a lengthy set of stairs there were large doors thrown wide, where light streamed out. And up those stairs Ginerva headed.

When she stepped into the ballroom itself she was almost overtaken, the walls almost breathing glamour and elegance. There were so many young ladies, dressed in all the colours of the rainbow, talking excidedly among themselves. Something important was clearly about to happen.

A small man standing next to the doors in the other end of the spacious ballroom banged his staff.

"I give you," He almost had to yell to be heard over the entire crowd, even though all the girls had suddenly fallen deadly silent. "His Royal Majesty, Prince Harry."

And the large doors opened and out walked a tall young man with a head of raven. He was muscular, she could see even from across the room, and very handsome. The young ladies gave a collective sigh of longing.

How does the poor young man feel to be looked at almost like a piece of meat or an expensive jewel to be desired? Ginerva thought to herself. He could never have a proper conversation with any of those girls, they would just giggle and hide their faces with their fans.

Unbeknownst to her Harry was thinking the same thing. He could never talk properly to any of those girls, let alone share their bed. His evening looked to be another boring night of giggling girls when he caught bright brown eyes staring at him intently. The lady had brilliant red hair and she was not dressed the same as all the other girls who wore big, poofy gowns with large crinolines under. Her dress was white but almost shimmering. It was closely cut at top but with a modest neckline and fell in gentle waves around her legs.

She looked directly into his eyes and gave him a small smile. The smile seemed to say: I know, but I'm not that shallow.

He walked directly towards her, splitting the sea of swooning noblewomen. When he reached her he bowed before her. She replied with a curtsy.

"My lady," He said. "Will you join me in leading the first dance?"

"I'd be honoured, Your Majesty." She replied. As she laid her hand on his extended arm she whispered. "You need to help me, sir, for I haven't danced for a long time. "

"Don't worry," He replied. "I'm a horrid dancer myself, the band will keep it slow and easy."

And, lo, the band began to play a slow waltz as Harry lead Ginerva to the middle of the dancefloor. They waited, poised to begin. As they danced they soon felt they had an easy rhythm, neither outshining the other but more complimenting.

"May I ask your name, fair maiden?" Harry asked. "It is rare to find such exquisite beauty in the sea of plainer fish." He gestured around them at the dancers.

"It is Ginny, Your Majesty. And such flattery, while appreciated, is unnecessary. I'm quite content discussing something else."

"Very well." Harry replied, both surprised and pleased. Most young girls loved talking ill about their competition, thinking it improved his feelings about themselves. "What would you like to talk about? What books have you been reading lately?"

"Well, recently I have been reading Portner's _Theory of Magic_. Do you know it?" She said.

"Know it? I live by it. How he talks about every persons obligation to use his or hers abilities and how it is almost a crime to disregard it. I've tried telling that to my father but he insist upon using only armies and strategy to win wars."

"Of course one must not forget that your father is king and not you, begging Your Majesty's permission." She answered, fearing she might've been too bold. To her surprise she heard him chuckle softly.

"You're right. He is king. And a damn good one at that. What he does however forget is that evil also comes armed with magic. It is like the tale of the young maiden and the dragons. She used her magical singing to soothe them and bind their fire. That fire was magical and would've been used for evil if she hadn't." He said.

"What you're leaving out of this example is the fact that she had the help of the Gentle Dragon, lulling the others into false security. She never even would've gotten close to them it wasn't for him, And yet he was persecuted and killed." Ginerva replied, having heard that tale again and again from her father when he told her about his adventures.

"You know you legends well, miss Ginny. Let's talk about less theological topic. What are your opinions on music?"

They talked and talked while they danced. When Ginerva's slippers began to hurt her feet he walked her through the gardens and sat her down on a bench. There they talked all night while inside scores of young noblewomen seethed at the thought of the unknown girl that had taken their prince away.

As the dawn began to break Ginerva finally came about to the lateness, or earliness more likely, of the hour.

"O my." She said. "I really must get going. They'll be expecting me at home." She was hurrying across the garden to the stables.

"Wait." Harry called after her. "How may I find you again?"

But Ginerva didn't reply, she was halfway across the gardens and saw a stable boy waiting with Goldstream for her. She swung herself on back, no longer caring to ride sidesaddle or ruining her frock.

She barely made it inside and up to her rooms to change before she was expected to the kitchens to help with breakfast preparations. She was humming to herself, she realized, the waltz they had danced to.

Harry was sitting with his mother in her parlour.

"Don't you know her?" He asked impatiently.

"Well," Queen Lily replied. "It would've helped to know a little bit more about her family, her home, anything dear. You don't expect me to recognize every noblewoman in the kingdom, do you?"

"There's only one I need you to remember, Mother." Harry said. He sighed. "She's beautiful, red hair and brown eyes. She likes Dillon's poetry is interested in politics and knows surprisingly much about our legends. She has a wonderful sense of humor, her eyes light up whenever she thinks something funny, her voice is so soft and musical…what?"

His mother was barely concealing her smile.

"Nothing, darling, nothing." She said. "The only one I can remember to fit that description is Lord Arthur's daughter, you know, of St. Ottery, but she hasn't been seen at court for years. Frankly, I either thought she had become fat or joined a convent." She giggled a little at her own humour but stopped when she saw her son's serious face.

"They live about two miles outside the city, in that big old mansion. Poor Arthur lost dear Molly about ten or eleven years ago and then married that intolerable Persephone. I wouldn't be surprised if the little girl hadn't had a hug or a kiss since then. Her father travels quite a lot. In fact," She said. "He was the one that brought back the dragon claw that made your swordhilt, Harry."

Harry looked down at the exquisitely carved hilt that hung at his waist. It was solid but still lightweight and was of the nature that if it was once grasped in a noble hand it would immediately return to it if lost. Harry rose to his feet.

"I will ride out there today and find her." He said while exiting his mother's rooms.

"And do what, pray tell?" Queen Lily called after him. Harry's face appeared from behind the doorframe. He grinned.

"Marry her, of course." And then he was gone.

Queen Lily gave an unceremonious sigh and let herself fall against the soft cushions of her couch.

"Well," She said and then started laughing at his son's boldness, reminding her of another dark-haired nobleman, eighteen years ago.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter two._

All day long Ginevra stayed as far away as possible from her stepmother and –sisters. They were all furious that Prince Harry hadn't wanted to even speak to them, only that 'common foreign tramp', as they had decided that the mystery girl was. Ginevra was way to happy to trust herself not to reveal her secret to them, just to see their faces. So she spent the day after she'd finished her morning chores and not quite started her evening chores cleaning the cellar. She pushed heavy furniture around, she cleaned every nook and cranny and crawled underneath heavy shelves that hadn't been moved since her great-grandmother Fanny's time. She was dirty, her skirts were torn from snagging them on the rough floors, her hair was a mess. When the doorbell rang she expected it to be the old apothecary with medicine for Persephone's 'migraine' i.e. hangover. She rushed up the stairs, not caring about her looks, the old man had mended every of her brother's broken bones and comforted her when her pony had died. He wouldn't care if she was covered in grime.

When the door swung open she caught a glimpse of an emerald velevet riding jacket, brown jodhphurs and black riding boots. She yelped and slammed the door shut. How on earth had he found her? And how would she explain to her stepmother that she had slammed the door in Prince Harry's face? There was a heavy knock on the door and Persephone called from upstairs for Ginevra to 'open the sodded door, silly girl.' Ginevra reluctantly opened the door just a crack.

She almost gasped when she saw how handsome he looked. His dark hair was tousled from the ride, his clothes exquisitely fitted and made from the finest fabric. His skin was soft while there was a darker shade where, if left unattended, a dark beard grew. He truly was the epitome of a person that's well taken care of and never had to go without anything. She rubbed her rough hands together, hoping to make them a little bit softer and warmer, in case he wanted to shake hands. Shake hands? She thought to herself, why would he want to shake hands. Don't be stupid Ginny and just open the bloody door. So she did.

He was clearly taken aback when he saw her but only for a moment, then his face was alight with happiness.

"Oh, Ginny." And he grabbed her and hugged her, lifting her battered clogs of the floor. She hugged him back, breathing in his clean scent. Of course he smelled like his horse too, but she liked that. It made him smell manly, and reminded her of her brother Charlie, who was a general in the Kings Equestrian Battalion. When he finally let her down again she was smiling like a lunatic and her expression mirrored in his face.

"Where is your father?" He asked her. "I need to speak to him now."

"He is out of town, but he'll be back tonight." She replied before hugging him again. "I just knew you'd come and find me."

At this his expression turned serious. He was just about to say something when Persephone came barging down the stairs.

"Ginevra, " She cried. "I told you to send the man straight up to my rooms, not dilly-dally in the foyer. My migraine is just horrible..." She stopped short when she saw the visitor. Her expression turned to a sickeningly sweet smile.

"Oh, Prince Harry, how wonderful to see you. My daughters and I had the most wonderful time at your ball last night. They are upstairs now, my daughters, and I know they'll be thrilled to receive you. You didn't get much time to talk, what with that charming girl who stole you away last night. Who was that anyway, a distant cousin, a visiting princess?" She pressed on.

The look on Harry's face was confused.

"You mean you don't know?" He said. "I danced with Ginny all night."

"Ginny?" Persephone replied. Then comprehension dawned on her face as her eyes darted between the two lovers, and their hands, intertwined. "Oh, you can't be serious. She's just a lowly servant, sleeping with the rats. Don't you see how filthy she is? She's just a crude, ignorant girl, not even fit as a butcher's wife."

Harry was shaking with rage. "You treat your husband's daughter like that? You're not even worthy to look at her, let alone speak to her. Come, Ginny, you're leaving with me."

Ginevra followed him, stunned. No-one had ever dared speak to Persephone like that.

"Where are we going?" She asked him as he led her to his majestic black stallion.

"Home," Harry replied and prepared to swing her on top of the horse.

"Harry, wait." She cried. "I'm not going anywhere with you when you're this upset. Talk to me, yell at me, something."

"This woman is the most disgusting toad I've ever encountered. She's jealous of you so she tries to beat you down and you just let her? What the hell is that about? And your father just allows this? How on earth can this woman just get away with pushing you aside ad shove her stupid daughters in your place?" Harry was pacing the yard, yelling and kicking at small stones. When he finally halted in front of Ginevra, she grabbed him by the shoulders and kissed him squarely on the mouth. He responded eagerly, pulling her tighter and weaving his hands in her hair. He was practically pulling at it, but this only made Ginevra kiss him harder. When they finally pulled apart, they were both gasping for air.

"First of all, I do not let anyone walk over me. My father is sick, he's getting older and if Persephone makes him happy, then I'll do anything to make that happen. Persephone is mean, yes, but she could've killed me. She could've married me off to some mean old nobleman but she didn't. And now I have you, and she can't do anything to stop that. We're going to defeat her together. Not by fighting her or hurting her, but by being so eternally happy together she'll rot from the inside of jealousy. Alright?" She asked firmly.

Harry nodded, falling more in love with her by the moment.

"Good. Let me get my horse and then we'll go together."

She left the overgrown courtyard and reappeared a few moments later, leading Goldstream behind her.

"Where did you get this gemstone?" Harry asked as he stroked the white mare's side.

"A gift from my mother." Ginevra replied as she swung on top. "Now, let's go."

They rode silently to the castle, each thinking their own. When they finally halted before the castle gate, Harry reached over and took Ginevra's hand.

"I'm sorry for yelling before. I love you, Ginny, and I want to be with you all my life. Please don't think I'm some primitive caveman, just thinking about myself. "

Ginevra smiled at him. "I don't. I love you too, by the way."

Harry chuckled and they rode together into the courtyard.


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter three_

When Lord Arthur arrived home he was not greeted, as usual, by a smile that was a little too wide and a brief kiss on the cheek, followed with a "What did you buy for me, darling?"

No, this particular day he was greeted by a vase he'd brought home last time he travelled to the Treasure Chest flying by his left ear and smashing on the wall behind him. His wife, furious, waited for him to react, arm poised to throw a rather expensive brass statue.

"Now, my dear." He said, used to her fits of rage in private. "This won't break, it'll just break the wall."

"I don't care, Arthur. Frankly I wish I could bring this whole house down!" Persephone yelled at him.

"Ah, so you hate the house? Did that bring on the need to throw around expensive home decorating?"

"Don't be sarcastic with me you pathetic excuse for a man. Do you know what your insipid daughter has just done?"

"Ginny-bug? Where is she?"

"Oh, she won't be returning to this house as long as I hold the keys. She's just gone and made poor Prince Harry fall madly in love with her. He came to fetch her this morning, and oh what a sad state our kingdom is if that silly boy is to be king and she queen! Queen, Arthur, queen! After all my careful preparation with Padma and…where do you thing you're going?"

Lord Arthur was tugging on his riding boots as fast as he could.

"I'm going to the castle, my dear." He replied.

"If you so much as put a toe outside this house our marriage is over!"

Arthur paused to think about this.

"Well, alright my dear. Be gone by the time I get back." He finally said.

The final scream of frustration followed him out the door, along with the sound of a brass cherub forcing it's way through a window.

He rode swiftly to the castle, not stopping to the rest horse so it was drenched with sweat when he arrived.

He was greeted in the courtyard by Queen Lily. He fell to one knee and bowed before his Queen.

"Don't be silly Arthur." She said quickly. "Stand up and talk to me. Let's take a walk in the gardens."

Queen Lily's gardens were known throughout the world for their beauty and Lily collected the rarest flowers and planted them with the same gentle care she showed to every one of her people, from the lowest beggar to her own son. But what was less known was that the whole garden hummed with hidden magic. The trees listened to people's conversations, the flowers remembered their faces. The grass could spot lies and they all reported back to Lily.

"Arthur, I warned you when you married Persephone that marrying someone from her country you'd be marrying into more than you could imagine. They're bred to enforce their will. She's used to get whatever she wants and doesn't hesitate to do anything to achieve it. She's so furiously jealous of Ginevra, because she's far more powerful than you could imagine. Arthur, have you ever tried to feel her magic? She's so powerful she could've blown the entire castle away if she hadn't found a way to channel it. You made a big mistake when you left that girl in the care of that woman. I'm surprised she even tolerated her in the house."

"Well, she doesn't now. She threw a vase at my head." Arthur admitted. "I've been looking for a reason to divorce her for quite some time now."

"If you think that's the right thing to do, I support you, you know that." Lily said gently.

"I do, but now I want to see my daughter. Where is she? I have so many things I need to apologize for."

"She's taking a bath. Apparently she was cleaning out the cellar to avoid her stepmother when Harry arrived. It appears Persephone used the poor girl as a maid for her and her daughters. I trust you didn't know about that?"

"I certainly did not! I need to talk to her the moment she's done."

"Arthur, calm down. You've been a good friend of mine for a long time and when darling Molly died I lost one of my most trusted friends. I see a lot of her in Ginevra, you know. And that goes further than that head of hair she has." Lily added in jest.

"Mother." They heard someone say behind them. They turned around and saw Harry standing on the path behind them. "I need to talk to Lord Arthur, alone, please?"

"Of course darling." His mother smiled. "I'll go and see that our girl is well tended to."

The two men walked a bit further without saying anything. It was Arthur that broke the silence.

"Why aren't you with Ginny?" He asked.

"The maids threw me out." Harry replied. Arthur allowed himself a brief chuckle before turning serious again.

"I've been a terrible father to my daughter, Harry. I've travelled too much and been completely ignorant of her situation. I thought the best thing I could do for her when her dear mother passed away was to give her another mother. I married the first woman I met. I thought I'd gotten lucky. She had two daughters the same age as Ginny, she'd finally get sisters and someone to learn from and play with. Instead she was driven out of her father's house, turned into a servant. She didn't want to hurt me, I see that now. But it is not the place of daughters to protect their fathers, it should be the other way around. She gave me every chance to rectify this situation, but I was blinded, ignorant and in some way, I didn't want to see. Harry, she's a wonderful girl, the sweetest you can find, but never, ever underestimate her. She's clearly got a will of iron, not to let herself be driven to the ground. Protect her like I couldn't."

"So, I have your permission to marry her?" Harry asked.

"My dear boy, you never had to ask."

So it came around that the engagement of Prince Harry and Ginevra was announced. They were to be married three months later, on All Hallows Eve. The whole kingdom was in a state about the young, practically unknown noblewoman engaged to their prince. Granted, the family in St. Ottery was well-respected, dealing fairly in all their matters and well-liked by the royal family. However, no-one knew much about Ginevra. She'd never been seen at court, none of the young ladies could remember seeing her at parties or cotillions. She was an unknown figure to everyone, but they soon fell in love with her easy charm and brilliant mind. Out from her stepmother's reign of terror, Ginevra blossomed into a wholesome, lovely girl. She adored Harry but never let him get away with coddling her or overprotecting. She rode out with him on Moonstream, joined his lessons with Sir Dumbledore and even secretly convinced her brother Ronald to teach her the basics of fencing and archery. He protested at first, thinking such was not for the future Queen, but Ginevra didn't let up until he agreed.

She also made friends for the first time since she was a little girl. Many of the young nobles stayed at the castle and she was soon overcrowded with young ladies that desperately wanted to befriend her. She could soon see through the falsest of them, and pursued further encounters with the others. One of her dearest friends was her brother Ronald's betrothed, Lady Hermione. She was slightly older than the two siblings, two years older than Ginevra, a year older than Ronald. She was a very likable young woman, not concerned with fashion and the latest gossip but very academically minded, her nose often deep in a book. She was very straightforward and taught Ginevra most of what she needed to know about life in the castle, without glamourizing it. Another young lady Ginevra soon began to love was Lady Luna. Although she was the same age as Ginevra she was already married for over a year. Her husband, Lord Neville of The Forest, was one of the finest botanists in the kingdom and surrounding countries so when not travelling he resided at Queen Lily's side, helping her develop her gardens even further. He did have a mansion in the country, near the wild forests that grew all around the southern border of King James's kingdom but preferred to live at court, mostly for Lady Luna's sake.

Some of the meaner ladies would have described Lady Luna as having her head in the sky but Ginevra soon found out Luna was in fact very grounded, she just experienced things differently. She had a way of explaining things and looking at things from another perspective. Although her questions sometimes sounded naïve they had a deep ring of truth to them. Who but Luna would've looked at the apple trees in the orchard and asked the head gardener if the apples hurt when they were picked off the tree or if it was like neglecting to milk a cow, soon it was about to burst with it's milk and fruit, respectively?

Ginevra soon found out there was more than she expected to be married to Harry. Queen Lily took her under her wing to teach her the proper conduct and mannerism. A good foundation had been laid by late Lady Molly so it was easy to build upon it.

"I just wished it wasn't so terribly dull and unimportant." Ginevra secretly complained to her companions. "Even Lily admits it. Not in so many words but I can see she just aches to teach me about politics and espionage, but no, that is to be left to our kings."

"Oh, Ginny." Lady Hermione said, for Ginevra had taken to be called Ginny, the former name reminding her too much of her stepmother. "Unfortunately it is just our position in this world to know anything about it except how charming the Spring Islands can be this time of year. However, in just two short months, you're going to be our future queen so I trust you to change that."

"Oh, don't remind me!" Ginny moaned. "Half of me just wants to be married to Harry so we can spend the rest of our lives together but then the other half of me is terrified of all the duties that follow."

"Well," Luna added. "Just close your eyes and think of the kingdom then."

"Luna!" Both Ginevra and Hermione gasped, horrified but then started giggling.

"I wasn't talking about _that_!" Ginevra said between laughs. "I actually look forward to that, I'm worried about appearing publicly, hosting parties and such. I hope you don't just close your eyes when with Neville?"

"Not now," Luna replied smugly. "I did at first, until I saw he was just as nervous, then it became a game for us. We could laugh at it together and enjoy it together. I really miss him. " She sighed.

Neville had been taken along with Arthur to search for the mythical sunflower, said to keep the essence of the sun in its juice. It only grew on the top of the world's tallest mountain, making it extremely difficult to reach. What Luna didn't voice was her concern of him not returning. He wasn't like Arthur, a seasoned adventurer, used to harsh conditions and unfriendly nations. He was handsome, no doubt, but he was a scholar, preferring to spend his time in the greenhouses or the Royal College, where he taught. This journey would take the men through unchartered lands, where more savage tribes lived. There were tropical diseases and even with Lord Arthur's magic and Neville's own medicines no-one knew what could occur.

Luna and Neville had been married over a year but still had no children. Ginevra suspected that was both of their doing, not wanting to have children just yet. She'd only had the chance of knowing Neville for a week before he left but she could see a deep passion between the two. The day before Neville left neither had left their communal quarters all day and Ginevra had heard the maids gossiping about how they wouldn't even let them in to change the sheets, doubtless because they were still using them.

Lady Hermione was more reserved about these things. She loved her brother deeply, Ginevra could tell. The problem was, however, that Ronald didn't feel worthy to be married, wanting to travel the world and collect his wealth first.

"What he doesn't understand is that I would gladly live with him in a tent in the Royal Forest, just as long as we're together. But, no, he must be rich first, buy us the largest mansion in the whole wide world, sometimes I feel as if he wouldn't be happy unless we lived in a bigger castle than this." Hermione said, desperately. "And I don't want to do that. I just want a house, with him in it, our bed and my books. That's all."

"Oh, Hermione, don't worry, I know my brother. He'll start completely resolved but when he starts to see it doesn't matter to you, he'll stop caring so much as well. Please, stop worrying about this and help me with this idiotic curtsy." Ginerva handed her her book on court mannerism. "Is this the proper curtsy for an earl or a duke?"


End file.
